The Hunted, The Hunter and the Spear
by Pipwolf
Summary: It's 1889, and The Spearhead case has been open for over 3 months now. 3 months too long in Vastra's opinion, but business is business. A Madame Vastra/Jenny case that's been on my to-do list for a while, and it's done! Rated M for some vivid description later on, but I can't tell how sensitive people are.
1. Chapter 1-Going through Fire and Water

**Chapter 1-**

**Going through Fire and Water**

Rain pounded at the windows, only pausing its cacophony to allow the deep bellows of thunder make their presence known. A genetically modified clone warrior from outer space, also known as Strax, stood alone by the window of 13 Paternoster Row, but his mind wasn't occupied with worrying about his comrades in this atrocious weather. Instead, he was glaring up at the dimly shining orb hanging in the sky. So far, the Moonites had thwarted all his plans of invasion. Presently, they'd forced him to discard the idea of gaining upper ground. _They_ had the upper ground. An extreme upper ground.

"Damn Moon," he spat, concluding his daily 'Operation: Destroy Moonites' plan-of-attack brainstorm.

Meanwhile, on the other side of London, two women trudged together in companionable silence.

Jenny grimaced as she took another step and realised her boot was half-filled with water. Every layer of clothing she had on was soaked, and the cold gnawed at her extremities. She quickly glanced up at Vastra, who seemed unbothered by the weather. Jenny didn't realise how long her eyes were lingering on her mistress until the lizard woman herself looked at her maid. Jenny turned away as their eyes met, embarrassed and ashamed at her lack of etiquette.

"Is everything alright?" Vastra asked, her question barely loud enough to make itself heard above the hammer of the rain.

"Y-yes, Ma'am," came the reply. Had it not been for the Silurian's exceptional hearing, that reply would have been deemed inaudible.

Another 5 minutes later, and Vastra stopped abruptly outside a dark, multi-story building. It was one of the oldest in Victorian London, but by no means was it fragile. Aside from several cracks in the ceilings, it was untarnished. Perfect, even.

The walls seemed to hold its breath as the two women entered. A thick layer of dust coated nearly every surface, muffling any sound that was emitted. This, Vastra thought a little offhandedly, could prove to be both an ally and an enemy.

"I'm afraid we're going to have to split up," whispered Vastra. Jenny's heart sank. Although she'd received more-than-adequate training from Vastra, without her mistress by her side, her confidence flickered like a blown flame. Evidently unaware of what her brain was actually thinking, Jenny's lips parted and spoke.

"Yes Ma'am."

Vastra nodded.

"I'll take The Eastern Wing, and you, the West." With that, they left each other and parted. Neither noticed the claw marks on the Western walls.

Shivering, Jenny drew her katana carefully, the steel-on-steel 'snick' calming her a little more. It was horrifying how easily her mind played tricks on her in this environment, but she couldn't afford to lose focus. Madame Vastra had predicted their target was to strike here tonight, and Jenny would be ashamed out of her wits if she was to miss them.

She stood on a particularly creaky floorboard, and gingerly retracted her foot. A draught blew down the dark corridor, causing a few oil paintings to shudder. Jenny winced. She was meant to be the hunter, not the hunted. Drawing attention with creaky floorboards was not the way to go.

A guttural growl echoed out from (seemingly) all around the maid. Her eyes scanned the shadows, prying out any signs of movement. It didn't take years of experience to know that a growl without a body was never a good thing.

Something heavy and clawed suddenly pinned Jenny to the ground from behind. The impact of hitting the ground knocked her only weapon out of her grip, which skittered away over the stone floor. She twisted her head around to be greeted with the sight of dripping jaws. Jaws dripping with something other than saliva. It stank, and Jenny was doing her hardest not to retch. She was also doing her best to squirm out from under it, but her efforts were rather fruitless, presently. To be completely honest, Jenny thought she was taking the situation far too casually, considering what was at stake. Then again, facing dangers daily tended to have that effect on you.

The creature had an iron grip, and the hope of escape was threatened with long, shining claws. Jenny assumed it was a liberty to not be able to report the power the beast held in its jaws. Now, all she needed to do was get back on her feet. As the saying went, easier said than done.

Hoping her flash of inspiration would work (she almost laughed at the convenience), Jenny pushed as hard as she could on her right side. This just levered the beast off her back, allowing her to use her own fall momentum and arm power to continue to fall on top of the creature, hopefully stunning it momentarily. Mid-fall, Jenny grasped her katana sheathe with her left hand. Whilst the sheathe wasn't made for combative use, it wasn't exactly flimsy. She drove it into the beast's abdomen, causing it to double up and snarl at her. It straightened up and literally came eye-to-eye with its attacker, who took the opportunity to identify the creature. Whilst she was doing so, she heard a familiar set of running feet approaching her.

Vastra eyed every surface, searching for anything out of the ordinary. She felt apprehensive about leaving Jenny alone, very...protective.

"Should you be possessing these emotions for an ape, Vastra?" she quietly murmured to herself. She gently shook her head but froze as something up ahead caught her eye. No, there was no mistaking it, she could taste it in the air to...a body!

Yes, it was just like every other body found in this case. Completely disembowelled and a spear protruding from its mouth, pinning them to the ground below. Vastra flicked her tongue in the air above the wounds. This one was recent. Very recent. Extremely recent. Her head shot up in fear, eyes wide. Whatever did it would still be in the building. As if synchronised with her thoughts, a 'thump' was heard in the Western wing. Wasting no time, Vastra dashed to the location of the sound.

There she was, Jenny, standing there, facing a werewolf. It was definitely a werewolf: lupine features, bipedal stance, and semi-intelligent behaviour. Proud of her maid, Vastra arrived at the side, shoulder-to-shoulder, facing the beast.

It sniffed the air, once, twice. With a snarl, it leapt at the pair. They readied themselves for the first strike, but to their surprise, the lycanthrope dove past them and landed on another figure standing in the shadows. He was accompanied by three or four of his friends, all equipped with similar attire–patchy, shabby clothes, and a javelin-like spear. Screaming, the man thrashed about on the floor whilst his friends panicked and fumbled with, what looked like, matches.

There were several cries of 'Light it now!' and 'Blow up the goddamn thing already!' and the one shout of 'Screw it, I'm off!' before a quiet hissing was heard. The werewolf's ears pricked up. It turned its head, and fled, which was followed by many curses and swears from the spear men.

Nobody realised how short the fuse was.

The blast resounded through the building, throwing the two women apart and setting anything alight that wasn't damp from the rain still pounding away outside. Choking and spluttering, Jenny groped through the smoke, trying to find her mistress, ignoring the many panicked cries coming from the men.

"Ma'am!" she croaked when she saw a familiar crested head appear through the smoke. The head turned, and stumbled towards her voice.

A harsh 'crack' sounded overhead, and a huge stone slab fell from the floor above. It seemed to fall in slow motion as it plummeted earthward. Right onto Madame Vastra.

Jenny's eyes widened as she dashed to her mistress' side.

"Can you 'ear me Ma'am?" she whimpered, trying her best to hide her fear for Vastra's sake. The lizard woman looked up dazedly, and nodded.

"Can you walk, Ma'am?"

After what looked like a huge amount of effort (and pain), Vastra looked up despairingly, and shook her head. 'She's concussed', Jenny thought.

"Right then, 'old on Ma'am," Jenny said through gritted teeth. Using her surprising amount of power, the humble maid turned into a formidable heroine in seconds, hauling her (now unconscious) comrade over her shoulder and grunting slightly in the amount of effort it took.

The smoke was like sandpaper on her throat, and acid in her eyes. The path to the entrance was still more or less clear.

"Typical," she snarled to nothing in particular. "The only bit o' debris lands on Ma'am." Staggering, she made her way to the exit, when another 'crack' sounded from above. Fearing the worst, Jenny looked up to see a main support frame crashing down, ablaze, forming a huge diagonal barrier to freedom. Cursing quietly, Jenny took a few steps back; she'd have to jump over it, there was no time to walk around.

Using all she had left, she charged at the beam. Her right leg cleared the flames, but her left leg betrayed her ability and hooked onto the burning log. Jenny winced and hissed at the pain (something she must have picked up from her mistress), but yanked her leg out all the same in a very all-or-nothing manner.

As she tumbled to the ground, starved of clean oxygen, she could only think of one thing. She had failed Madame Vastra.

_**A/N: First chapter, done and dusted! Feel free to read on. If not, just click 'Back' and carry on with your life.** _


	2. Chapter 2-Attempted Recovery

**Chapter 2-**

**Attempted Recovery**

"'Y'all righ' Miss? 'Ey, wek' up!"

The accent was alarming. It had been months since Jenny had heard anyone speak like that to her. Her vision cleared, and she saw a pair of chestnut eyes look into hers. They instantly lit up when they saw Jenny gain conscience, and a grin spread on the face.

"'Ow are ye'?"

Jenny shook her head a little to try and clear her grogginess before replying.

"M'all right…where's Madame?" With the last two words, she sat bolt upright and proceeded to get to her feet before a jet of pain sped up her left leg. Luckily, someone was there to catch her. Or rather, two people.

The first was the brown-eyed boy who'd woken her up, and let go of her arm as soon as the other person had a firm grasp. The other person…Jenny couldn't mistake those misty-blue eyes.

"Ma'am!"

Vastra smiled warmly before looking over curiously at the mammal pup. Why wasn't it deterred by her appearance? The boy suddenly became aware of his air of mystery, so hastily introduced himself.

"Timuffy miss, but Tim'll do," he said, thrusting out a hand that Jenny gingerly shook. Vastra ignored the gesture.

"How did we get here?"

"I…ah, found you 'ere, missus," he replied.

Vastra didn't look convinced.

"I didn't get this far when I got out o' that building last night..." Jenny thought out loud. With this new piece of information, Vastra turned back to the puny ape (oh God, she was turning into Strax) before her.

"I'll repeat the question: How did we get here?"

With a tired roll of his eyes, he replied monotonously.

"I carried you 'ere. But I'm not sayin' nothin' more, yeah?" The latter half of the reply was decidedly fiercer than the former half. 'And more illiterate as well,' thought Vastra.

Nevertheless, both women were slightly taken aback, both by the sincerity in his eyes, his rush of anger and the pure incredibility of the action he'd just described.

"Are you…sure?" Vastra asked, dubious of the signs of child fantasies. Tim glared at her.

"I've got better things to do than lie, ok? Take it or leave it, I say," he spat at her. Vastra stood there, stunned, unknowing in how to deal with feisty mammal pups.

"Madame was jus' checkin', tha's all," Jenny interjected, sensing her mistress' unease.

"Thank you anyway, pup-" Jenny gave Vastra a swift elbow to the ribs "-Tim," she corrected herself, and turned to leave, supporting a limping Jenny.

"An' by the way Ma'am," Jenny said after they were well out of earshot "They're called children. No' pups."

Strax's snores were vibrating throughout the house when the pair arrived back home. They were lucky that Strax was a deep sleeper. Like, a very deep sleeper. Even if all of his grenades in his (worryingly extensive) collection exploded simultaneously now, (even the Sonic-Boomer grenades) he wouldn't even turn in his sleep. That was, until bang on 6:37am. The advantages of having a military-born potato as a butler (if there were any) was that they were diligent in waking up on time and starting their training. In Strax's case, his mandatory-and thorough-sweep through the house. Whilst this was very effective when it came to keeping mice out of the kitchens, many a time Jenny had woken up to find the greenhouse/conservatory/kitchen/drawing room/dining room/bedrooms/bathroom/any piece of solid material nearly in smithereens.

A fitful night followed for each party. Vastra knew the dangers of the December snow that could debilitate her so; she'd underestimated the October showers. It seemed that all forms of inclement weather that visited London, as Jenny so frankly put it, 'had it in for her'. The chill from the rain clung to her flesh like a leech, even though all her sodden clothes had been removed. She started shivering violently, her body's attempt to create kinetic-formed heat energy that it could then feed off.

Jenny was struggling to sleep due to the fact that Vastra was crying out in anguish every other minute. It wasn't the noise itself that broke Jenny's heart, it was the being behind the sound. Unable to listen to another moan without bursting into tears herself, she fell out of bed and practically scrambled down the hallway to Vastra's room, ignoring her left leg's protests. She knocked quietly on the door. No reply, as was rather expected. Carefully, she opened the door and peered inside. Vastra was curled up as tightly as was possible whilst semi-unconscious, and still as death itself. Or so she thought. Tentatively, she placed a hand on one of Vastra's exposed shoulders and almost snatched it back again immediately. She was vibrating. _Vibrating_.

What should she do? Fetch hot water bottles? No, that'd take too long. Vastra could _die_. With a mix of apprehension and curiosity, Jenny realised the only way to convey a large amount of heat in a short amount of space was to transfer her 'mammal heat' (as Vastra so commonly called it) into her mistress.

She'd have to join her in bed.

Jenny didn't know if she should be horrified or happy. There she was, in her nightclothes, trying to do her best of holding onto a giant, freezing, vibrating lizard. She pressed her body more firmly against her employer's back, as if willing her heat into her.

After an hour or two of this, Vastra stopped vibrating, but had violent sporadic shivering fits instead. Jenny didn't know which one was worse. Just as she was on the brink of dropping off, a mass of shivers would jerk her awake again. By now, she'd gotten used to the dull aching resonating from her biceps.

Time was edging into the early hours of the morning now, and Jenny was desperate.

"C'mon Ma'am, 'old on," she whispered.

"Uhh..."

The reply, despite being rather muffled and vague, was enough to stoke Jenny's hope and melt away those icy fingers of doubt that had started clawing at the back of her mind.

Due to the very late hour and the long day, Jenny soon fell into a peaceful, albeit stiff, slumber.

Despite her obvious lack of sleep, Jenny's body clock jerked her awake at 7 o'clock sharp.

"Stubborn as a mule," she muttered darkly under her breath, casting a glance over at Vastra to check her curse didn't rouse her. She placed two fingers on Vastra's forehead, and frowned. Strange, she was still a few degrees cooler than usual. Stretching out from her stiffness, the maid decided that there was enough time for hot water bottles now, in comparison to the night before.

After pulling on her uniform, 3 hot water bottles were prepared. She knocked quietly on Vastra's door. There was a brief hiatus, then a clear 'Come in' sounded, surprising Jenny. Madame Vastra was already awake?

"You were a bit chilly, so I go' you a few 'ot water bottles, Ma'am," Jenny explained as she entered, holding out the said objects.

"Thank you, Jenny." The maid stiffened a little, but continued listening to her mistress for all she was worth. Was she talking about what happened the previous night after their misadventure?

"Wha' for, Ma'am?"

"Everything. Your efforts, everywhere." Jenny remained stiff. That would mean Vastra was also referring to last night. She simply nodded, hoping her mistress wouldn't judge her any differently now.

_**A/N: When it comes to emotions and awkward situations, there are better authors than me who can cover them properly. Yeah, sorry.** _


	3. Chapter 3-To Boil a Potato

**Chapter 3-**

**To Boil a Potato**

"BOY!"

Both women jumped, startled by the shout, and confusion was etched in their faces as Strax charged into Vastra's room.

"I am taking you in as a Prisoner-Of-War, in the name of the Greater Sontaran Empire!" he boomed, seizing one of Jenny's arms.

"What for?" argued back Jenny indignantly, fruitlessly trying to tug her arm out of his grip.

Strax turned around slowly and glared at her.

"For holding lesser Sontaran fleets in your food preparation room, or 'kitchen'." He spat out the last word as if the use of human words tarnished his—admittedly meagre—reputation.

"What on Earth are you on about?" Jenny hissed back.

In the kitchen, Strax released Jenny so he could stride over to a far countertop, sweep up some objects off it, return to the women and hold out the evidence with a flourish.

"I have scouted the area. There are a total of 26 captives in this immediate vicinity."

Jenny tried to suppress a giggle in vain.

"What are you laughing at, boy?" snapped Strax, affronted that a prisoner was laughing in the face of the Greater Sontaran Empire.

"Y'know, Strax, they're...potatoes. We eat them, they're vegetables. They're not intelligent bein's," explained Jenny after collecting herself. Vastra seemed rather amused by the whole situation.

An hour later, Strax had to admit that potatoes were not degenerated Sontarans. The most serious bone of contention between the maid and the butler, though, had to be the Case of the Moonites. Strax was adamant of their existence, and Jenny had said many a time that the next time the Doctor visited, she'd force him to take them to the Moon. Something Vastra was looking forward to seeing.

Due to an excessively long argument over the possibility of warrior vegetables, breakfast had been cancelled and Jenny started work on lunch instead. As Strax stormed out of the kitchen, Vastra took a step forward from the corner of the room.

"I sensed you next to me last night," she said quietly. Jenny accidentally scored the surface of the worktop before replying.

"'M sorry Ma'am, i' was the only thing I could think o'..." she trailed off as she realised that she had just lied. Oops.

"It's fine, just remember that reptiles can pick up more than what they can see, even in repose, or sub-conscience" replied Vastra, flicking out her tongue in an extremely snake-like manner. So snake-like that it caused Jenny to think aloud.

"Silurians 'ave a Jacobson's Organ too, Ma'am?"

Vastra was a little surprised by Jenny's knowledge of reptilian anatomy, which the maid saw and hastily explained.

"It's just that I've seen you readin' that 'uman anatomy book quite a few times now, so I thought I could read up on reptile anatomy." Jenny only realised afterwards how rude that could have sounded.

"Well, let's just say that snakes didn't quite, develop, the Jacobson's Organ," Vastra replied. "Our laboratories gave evolution a little...helping hand." Vastra gave her an impish grin, not unlike Jenny's, which made the human's heart skip a beat.

"This has always led me to question the necessity of a nose," Vastra continued, twitching said part.

"You look perfect as you are, Ma'am," Jenny replied quietly.

In turn, this sparked a light conversation about unnecessary biological features. After speculating over the appendix, Jenny deemed lunch ready to serve. If anyone walked in now, they'd think that Jenny had murdered someone due to all the raw meat and blood from Vastra's meal, as well as the sizeable knife the maid still held. Unfortunately, Strax did just that.

4 smashed glasses and a couple of war threats later, the Paternoster Gang settled down to lunch. Vastra swore the tension was so thick between the other two, she could pluck it from the air and set it alight. She also feared for Strax a little, as Jenny continuously kept flicking her vision to his probic vent (or at least where it should be on his battle suit) whilst gripping her knife very tightly.

_**A/N: Very shouty and ever-so-slightly nerdy (I knew that Jacobson's organ thing already, without research. Sheesh), but I couldn't resist.**_


	4. Chapter 4-Mind over Matter

**Chapter 4-**

**Mind over Matter**

It was 2:47pm, and Vastra was in the drawing room, prying out facts from their small disaster the previous night. She worked better in a relaxed environment compared to her study, which she really only used for writing up finalised case summaries. Besides, Jenny was doing a full-house cleanout, and if Vastra knew what was good for her, she'd leave her to it.

The Spearhead case had been active for quite some time now. In most cases, Vastra would have grown increasingly frustrated, but this case seemed to sap more and more of her curiosity with each murder.

Ten minutes later, Jenny had arrived at the drawing room and proceeded to dust off the mantelpiece.

"Did you notice anything particularly...unusual, last night, Jenny?" Vastra asked, looking up. Jenny slowly turned.

"You mean, aside from the facts that an 'ungry werewolf showed up, an' some guys nearly blew up the bloomin' buildin'?!"

"Yes, apart from those facts," replied Vastra, calmly.

"Well, the werewolf actually went fer the men first, not us," Jenny mused whilst brandishing a featherduster at the grandfather clock. Vastra nodded; she'd already noted that.

"Can you give me a full description of the werewolf?"

Jenny sighed heavily and started to rearrange the cushions. This could potentially be a lot of work.

Accepting Jenny's answer of a sigh, Vastra proceeded.

"Height?"

"Jus' a bit taller than me, Ma'am."

Vastra glanced up briefly and spoke as she wrote.

"Not...very...tall, then." The Silurian couldn't help but smirk as she felt the glare hit her bowed head.

"Weight?"

"'Bout as 'eavy as you, Ma'am," came the reply, much more stiffly.

"I don't know if I should take that as a complient or not."

"Put it this way Ma'am, you've pinned me enough times in trainin' for me to get the gist of 'ow 'eavy you are, and that werewolf was just as weighty as you."

"I do beg your pardon, Miss Flint!" challenged Vastra, feigning shock. Resisting the urge to wink, Jenny gave an impish grin.

"Back 'atcha."

They both paused for a moment, marvelling the other.

"Ahem, claw length?"

The questions continued for a while, until Jenny thought there were barely any factors left that were necessary.

"Scent?"

She paused her china-rearranging, recalling what the creature smelt like. "It stank of blood, old an' new. An' dead, rottin' flesh." She wrinkled her nose at the memory.

"Good. That should be adequate–" Jenny breathed a sigh of relief "–for now." The maid visibly sank when the last two words were spoken, groaning at the suggestion. Vastra smiled, and continued.

"So, it seems these Spear apes (for once, Jenny didn't object to the usage of the word 'apes') are somehow linked to the werewolf. I found a human in the Eastern Wing that was killed in exactly the same style as all the other murders. His scent and attire confirmed that he was also part of the Spear Men." Jenny was scribbling away furiously at a notepad as Vastra spoke. She glanced up to signal that her mistress could continue.

"In each murder, the victim has always been a Spear Man, pierced through the mouth with a spear, most likely his own, and has suffered fatal intestinal gougings, very much in the feeding style of a werewolf.

The two parties are very hostile towards each other. The werewolf decided to attack the Spear Men, who were further away, over us, and the Spear Men were prepared to detonate an entire building just to kill this lupine legend. But why are they against each other?

They could have previously worked together, but one may have grown too greedy, causing disagreements and hostility. They could be fighting over something, an item or an amount of money. Besides, I hardly think one is trying to eliminate the other for lawful reasons.

The question still remains though: who is the killer? The werewolf could be gorging on the Spear Men one by one as they attempt to slaughter it. Alternatively, there could be a spy in the Spear Men group, who's killing its members inside-out, and the werewolf is simply feeding on the bodies. In that sense, the Spearmen would assume that the bodies they find are caused by the werewolf, so they try and track it down. I suppose this explains the werewolf's attack on the men behind us yesterday. There is a possibility there could be a third party, but the evidence supporting this is lacking." Vastra looked up at her maid, who was still scribbling down some lines.

"What do you think, Jenny? What do we do next?"

Jenny looked up. Vastra was looking her in the eye, testing her. Jenny chewed her bottom lip and tapped the pencil on her chin, thinking.

"I think we should go fer the werewolf. As far as we know, it's alone, so it'll be easier to capture and interrogate. Once we 'ave the werewolf, we can question it and see if the murders persist. If they don't, then the werewolf may 'ave some sort o' dealin' in the deaths. Either that, or an ally it may 'ave 'as seen we captured its colleague, so they'll wait. Thing is, we don' know if the werewolf'll know anythin' when it's 'uman. Besides, the werewolf's got more chance of bein' guilty of somethin', bein' feral and all that...

Also, we'll 'av' ter wait fer the next full moon to arrive. Yesterday was the last full moon fer this month." Jenny paused, knowing Vastra would want a solution to this issue.

"We can use the time to research on werewolves. Y'know, what draws 'em in, 'ow they hunt, that sorta thing."

Vastra smiled, and nodded.

"Perfect," she whispered, more to herself than Jenny. All the same, the maid blushed lightly and looked down. That was a word that had never been associated with her before.

"Do you know the scent of a Spear Man, Ma'am?" Jenny asked.

"Yes, why?"

"Well, if we look and smell like one of 'em, that's certain to bring in the beast, right?"

"Yes, certainly."

_**A/N: Yes, there's a lot of talking, but I had to get it out of the way.**_


	5. Chapter 5-Hunters of the Damned

**Chapter 5-**

**Hunters of the Damned**

Despite the serious issue at hand, the following month was rather pleasant. Jenny's leg healed up nicely with no repercussions. The pair would spend a good portion of the afternoons in Vastra's extensive library, shoulder to shoulder, poring over mythological theorems and documented reports. If one of them found anything they deemed useful, they'd gently nudge the other, point out the information and discuss its use in action. If it was potentially useful, Jenny would write it down. She'd need a new notebook soon.

29 days later, they were stood together in the foyer, looking like a convincing pair of Spear Men. Jenny had managed to find clothes, similar to the ones worn by the men, being sold at the market. Vastra already had some spears in her collection of weaponry. Well, they looked like spears, but concealed inside were katanas. Jenny never knew sheathes could be so deceiving.

"Ready?" asked Jenny, jittering with anxiety and excitement. Their month of research hadn't reaped much; it thoroughly covered how to keep a werewolf away, not draw it in. Madame Vastra had checked that the katanas weren't made of silver. They wanted to capture the werewolf, not kill it.

"Wait," Vastra replied, and did something rather unexpected. She flicked her tongue out and waved it up and down the length of her maid. Frowning a little, she drew it back in.

"You need a little more gunpowder on your left shoulder."

Jenny did so obediently, and Vastra repeated the tongue-scenting process, which ended with a nod of satisfaction this time.

"There, you smell like a proper Spear Man," she proclaimed proudly.

"Now, let us go catch a werewolf!"

Vastra selected the corner of two empty streets to stand guard on, which enabled them to be simultaneously unnoticeable and noticeable. The entire area was pitch-black apart from one lamp post on that one corner, which casted out dim, wide beams of over-yellowed light.

Their wait had barely reached 10 minutes when Jenny spied a large, furry shadow dart past.

"T'be 'onest, I thought it'd take longer t' show up," she whispered.

"As did I," the Silurian replied quietly, tracking the beast in the shadows. "Just remember, stay back. This thing is capable of tearing you clean in half."

Jenny was about to comment on how Madame Vastra had just planted a rather charming image in her head, when a huge clawed paw flew through the air, straight at the lizard's head. With reactions considered superhuman (which they, effectively, were), Vastra blocked the heavy attack. From that point, a fierce battle ensued. The lycanthrope only attacked, ignoring any form of defensive tactics. Eventually, Vastra was forced to follow suit if she wanted to actually finish the battle. Attack was parried with attack as the two blurred around each other, snarling and feral. In fact, at one point, Vastra decided to all together abandon her katana, and fly in all teeth-and-claws.

The battle continued for a good 10 minutes before Vastra decided that she needed to change her tactics. Launching all her weight forward, she dove under the creature's arms and got back on her feet. Mustering up one of her most potent neurotoxins, she lashed her tongue at the werewolf's back.

For the first time in her life, something blocked her attack. Not because she missed, not because her target dodged it, but because they blocked it. With an attack.

The werewolf had whirled around, claws readied, and its left paw had struck the Silurian tongue in mid-air. Stunned and reeling in pain, Vastra was off-guard, so she couldn't react in time as the werewolf pinned her down.

"Over my dead body," Jenny growled, before charging. Her shoulder collided with the side of the beast, the impact throwing it off Madame Vastra. Recovering quickly, the werewolf leapt at Jenny, who narrowly dodged whilst drawing her katana, which hit the floor almost a second later. The werewolf was astonishingly fast; Jenny didn't even have time to see it disarm her. Nor did she have time to see it leap again, as the next thing she knew, she was pinned on the floor, a sharp pain echoing through her shoulder blades. It seemed the beast had a thing for disarming and pinning the human.

Jenny was having none of it. Grunting with effort, she launched a powerful kick at her attacker's lower stomach, sending it reeling backwards in pain, which Vastra was still doing (imagine if someone launched a scared porcupine at your tongue—which happened to be about 1 metre long at the time—with a cannon).

Not letting it recover, the humble maid-turned-warrior followed up with several more sideways kicks to its chest and a punch to each eye. In a fluid movement, Jenny turned her back to the werewolf, grabbed its left arm (coincidentally, the one that caused Vastra's pain), and flipped it over her shoulder, making sure it landed on its head. 'Maybe I should try that on Ma'am sometime in training. It's not actually that heavy when it's not on top of me' Jenny murmured mentally as a rather casual after-thought.

Wasting no time, Jenny unravelled the rope around her waist and started binding the creature's limbs. Vastra, now recovered, was just stood there, stunned.

"Where did you learn to kick like that?" she asked, staring at the pile of limbs that Jenny was currently tying up.

Her maid didn't look up, but still responded.

"I just...well, picked it up. I was thinkin', y'see, if your legs can carry your body weight around all day, surely they could pack quite a punch, right?" Jenny looked up just as she finished securing the last knot to see Vastra nodding in agreement.

They stood side by side next to the bound beast for a while, satisfied with their work. Finally, Jenny broke the silence.

"Well, 'ow about that then, Ma'am? I beat up a werewolf!"

"Yes, yes you did," replied Vastra rather quietly, thinking. Thinking that she'd have to be more wary of Jenny's capabilities in hand-to-hand combat training. That, and the fact that she had now well and truly fallen for her maid.

Jenny thanked the stars above that Strax was asleep when they arrived home. If the Sontaran ever came down and saw the huge mound of fur they'd brought home, what with all the major disagreements they'd already had today, Jenny would have been lucky to make it alive out of _that_ argument.

With their joint efforts, they managed to get the werewolf securely tied up in the cellar, which also served as their training room. The women watched the pile of fur rise and sink for a while before Jenny spoke.

"So, do we wait down 'ere for it to turn back, or can we leave it down 'ere for the ni—?"

"We leave it down here."

Vastra answered so quickly and sharply it made Jenny look up at her mistress.

"'S'ev'rythin' alright, Ma'am?"

Vastra drew in a deep breath, as if the subject was painful.

"Old warriors used to tell us ancient stories of battles and creatures when we were hatchlings. The very old veterans spoke of weresnakes, the Silurian equivalent of your mammal werewolf. They were Silurians cursed with lycanthropy, but the mix of reptile blood and mammal blood created those abominations. However, one didn't become infected by bites, as described in many of your werewolf tales. You were cursed to transform into a weresnake if you witnessed a transformation." Vastra looked into Jenny's eyes. "I don't know if the same applies to werewolves, but tradition is woven into our blood. I'd rather not defy our old ways and discover they were speaking the truth the hard way."

Jenny nodded.

"'Course Ma'am."

"I'm glad you understand," said Vastra, visibly sighing with relief.

_**A/N: I quite liked this chapter, even if the fighting sequence was a bit short, but I'm not the judge here.**_


	6. Chapter 6-Sheep in Wolf's Skin

**Chapter 6-**

**Sheep in Wolf's Skin**

The next morning was relaxed and nonchalant. 'Jenny's performance last night against the werewolf was amazing' Vastra thought. She wasn't seeing her maid in a new light, necessarily, just a much, much brighter one.

"Ma'am."

"Mmm?" said Vastra, looking up.

"Last night, you spoke of...weresnakes. D'ya know what they're like?"

The Silurian smiled a little, and her eyes went glassy, such as one does when retrieving long-passed events from their memory.

"No, I have never encountered one before, nor do I want to, according to some tales. By far, one of the most famous tales is the 'Great Serpent of the Loch'." Vastra leaned back in her chair, recalling how to war veterans used to tell the tale, whilst Jenny was listening like an excited child, eyes bright.

"Not much is known about where it came from, or who it used to be, but they say that it resides in, as you humans call it, Scotland, in a famous Loch by the name of Ness, to this very day.

They say that it is the physical form of the Cursed Moon itself, occasionally slithering on land to feed." Vastra shivered.

"Have you been told what one looks like?" asked Jenny, mesmerised by the words of the old and the blue eyes belonging to the one that told them.

"Yes, many times, in fact. They are larger, longer and faster than any snake, Silurian or ape. With jaws lined with fangs up to a foot long each, its bite is laced with arsenic, which happens to be ever so popular in this particular time era. It is said that the fur and scales on its skin are in a particular pattern, making it silent in any sort of environment. The colouration depends on the Silurian, as some have deeper shades of scales than others.

But above all, the eyes were described with the most detail. They say that at fire was burning in its skull, and the eyes cast out both the light and the flames. Some said the Creature of the Cursed Moon possessed the very Sun's light in its eyes." Vastra looked up from her raw sausages to see Jenny gazing at her, awestruck. It occurred to the lizard that she was the war veteran to this human, passing down ancient stories like she was there once before, herself.

When they were finished, Jenny rose and handed Madame Vastra her veil, which she donned with some assistance.

"Time to see who's lurking under all that fur, then," Vastra said grimly, pushing in her chair.

In the cellar, the candles had remained lit. If one was not told that there was a werewolf down there, they'd assume it was empty, the air was so still.

Accustoming to the dim lighting faster, Vastra spotted a smaller-than-expected figure on the floor.

"Of course..." she breathed.

The head of the body rose in greeting.

"G'morning Madame, Miss," it said, nodding respectively to each.

"Tim..." Jenny gasped. "You're the werewolf?!"

Tim's face fell a little.

"Well no, the werewolf escaped last night, so I crawled in here and bound myself up instead," came his reply, not lacking sarcasm.

"That's why the werewolf wasn't that tall...in comparison to folklore and tales at least," Vastra said, ignoring the other two's interaction. She pulled off her veil. Tim knew who she was, and if she could establish eye contact with the interrogated, it was to her advantage.

Wasting no time at all, Vastra began her pre-interrogation speech. Jenny usually said this, but she was still marvelling at how his feistiness burned on despite his situation. It reminded Jenny of herself a little, actually. However, the maid took the signal and whipped out her notebook, which was close to brimming.

"I am going to ask you some questions, and you must answer truthfully. However, you must do so with one word and one word alone. Do you understand?"

"Yeah."

"Are you aware of your actions during a transformation?"

"Yes."

"Are you and the Spear Men enemies?"

"Yes."

"Has it always been a mutual hatred?"

"No."

"Who started the battle?"

"Me."

"Why?"

"Justice."

Vastra paused, taking in the unexpected reply.

"What are they doing that deserves your judgement upon their fate?"

"Crime."

"What sort?"

"All." With this, Tim spat, and glowered at nothing in particular.

Vastra stowed away this slice of information and reminded herself to press further upon it later.

"Are you the one committing all the murders we're finding?"

"Yes."

"Is that justice?"

"Yes."

"Said whom?"

"You."

Vastra stopped, caught off-guard.

"Me? And, what would you know about me?"

"Detective."

"And how did you come across that information?"  
"Seen."

Vastra supposed it made sense. The amount of cases she'd dealt with and the amount of small mammals that had bared witness made it almost impossible for him _not_ to have heard of her, one way or another.

"Fine. Besides, I solve crimes. Killing is not part of my profession."

"Liar."

Behind Vastra, Jenny smirked.

"Ooh, I like thissun Ma'am," she finally said. The thought had been bouncing around her head for quite some time now.

Tim grinned back at Jenny before turning his attention back to his interrogator.

"We done yet, Maddum?"

"I think so. Jenny?"

"No lies detected over 'ere Ma'am," came the reply.

Vastra nodded in satisfaction.

"Now, tell me more about these Spear Men. If you lie, it will only be to your disadvantage as well."

It took the rest of the morning to drain every piece of information on the Spear Men out of Tim. It seemed that they possessed a substantial amount of power in London's underworld, from drugs, murder, prostitution and even petty thieveries. To Jenny's quiet delight, Vastra also asked Tim to give her a full description of the Spear Men's leader, which he visibly got more frustrated at as it progressed.

They all stopped for lunch at 12, Jenny unbinding Tim with worrying ease, if one was to assume Jenny was just a maid and nothing more.

"Strax?" said Vastra, halfway through lunch. The Sontaran looked up and gave the Sontaran salute.

"My powers are at your disposal, Madame!" he boomed. Jenny rolled her eyes.

"Quite the drama king, is 'e?" asked Tim, looking the warrior up and down.

"No," Jenny replied quietly. "The worryin' thing is, e's normally like tha'. 'E wouldn't know what actin' was, even if you painted it on a wooden bat an' whacked it round 'is 'ead," she paused. "Actually, it'd probably break the bat."

"Strax, how would you like to wage war on a clan of humans?" Vastra asked after patiently waiting out the humans' conversation. The potato's eyes lit up.

"It would be my honour, Madame! When do I begin?"

"When do _we_ begin, Strax. _You_ start after lunch, and you'll also be required to do some reconnaissance in preparation for the raid tonight."

Strax was practically jumping in his seat for the rest of lunch. His duty as a nurse had deprived him of war, which he lusted for above all else.

The mistress of the house debriefed the butler not long afterwards. Vastra smiled as the door slammed shut behind him. All one had to do was substitute some ordinary words with their war-related equivalents, and they could excite an entire Sontaran fleet. Additionally, the sight of a top hat balanced precariously on top of his round dome of a head never failed to amuse.

They barely had to wait half an hour before he returned with a complete (and surprisingly detailed, for a being of his intelligence and one only having 3 fingers per hand) map of their targeted area. Even Jenny was impressed, and despite the fact that she was constantly either irritated or angry at him, she had to praise him for his work. Sontarans hadn't gained their battle-ready reputations for nothing, after all.

With everyone's efforts, but more so Tim and Strax's, the plans were finally drawn up, and they were battle-ready when dusk came.

_**A/N: I feel Tim's character is a bit flimsy. Anyone else?** _


	7. Chapter 7-Raid of the Shadows

**Chapter 7-**

**Raid of the Shadows**

"Goddamn you Bernard!"

The said man just grinned drunkenly as he scraped the stacks of coins towards him, not even caring what the currency was.

"I'll give ya tha' though, if there's somethin' you're good at, it's poker," guffawed a man in the corner, chewing on a cigar.

"You're no' one ta say, John! You ain't good at nuffin', not even drinking!" a third man chimed in, raising a mugful of ale in the air, consequently showering the party with alcohol. John twisted his face into a grimace.

"Don' even mention tha' Greg."

"Yeah, or wha'?"

In a flurry of drunken confusion, John flew at Greg, knocking them both on the floor. Greg cried out as John pummelled his face, until a sharp call from Bernard the Poker Master ceased all movement.

"'Ear tha'? Them footsteps?"

The other two listened, suddenly sobered, and nodded. Bernard slowly finished polishing the end of his spear, ears still pricked up.

"So? Whass' wrong wi' tha'?" the two men on the floor asked.

"We're the only ones meant to be on duty."

Strax gave a two-fingered signal from the alley corner, signalling to the other three that it was an 'all clear'. Three figures darted forward, going from the tallest to the shortest. They drew straight into another shadow like two magnets, and seemingly disappeared into the darkness.

Halfway down an alleyway, Tim doubled over and stumbled. Both the women turned as Tim continued to stagger towards them. Jenny knew what was happening before he even said anything, and quickly slapped a hand over Madame Vastra's eyes.

"It's-it's startin'," he spluttered, dropping onto all fours.

His fingers started first. They elongated and grew knobblier, and started growing claws, slightly hooked and very sharp. His feet grew too, and his ankle seemed to grow outwards, pointing back. Stubbier claws grew from his toes, but they were lethal nonetheless. Dark patches of fur started sprouting from every inch of skin he had, which was accompanied with a deep ripping sound of fabric. Tim's face elongated, and he squeezed his eyes shut in pain. His teeth grew longer and ended at sharp points, as did his ears which had moved back and up. When he opened his eyes again, they glowed a deep, burning red.

After waiting a short while to be certain that the transformation was complete, Jenny slowly removed her hand from her mistress' face. Knowing Madame Vastra, the Silurian would have watched the transformation due to the curiosity of a detective (or out of sheer horror from tradition). The green lady reacted to this as well; at first, she tensed up and prepared to lash out, but then she realised what her maid was doing and relaxed.

"Well, we're ready as ever now," Jenny said, to which the towering mass of fur nodded to in agreement.

The strange party stopped just before the alleyway opened up to a deserted square.

"Madame, boy, Tim," (Strax must have taken quite a liking to Tim for him to remember his name) "Battle positions!"

Strax remained where he was, checking his settings on his gun, whilst Jenny and Vastra darted left and right, respectively, after exchanging a sorrowful and slightly longing glance. Tim made use of his claws and scaled the wall next to him, moving just as quickly vertically as he could horizontally.

All four of them patiently crouched in the shadows, eyes fixed on the fortress-like building, listening intently for any disturbances. Tim and Vastra sniffed or tasted the air, searching for the one scent that would signal for their raid to begin.

"'Ere, Greg, pass us them keys," grunted Bernard, hand outstretched, into which a grubby set of keys were dropped into.

"Wha' are ye gonna do?" asked John, dragging deeply on his cigar.

"I bet ya 'alf ma income that them footsteps was from that goddamn werewolf. Y'know, the one tha's bin pokin' abou' for 3 month or somethin'?" proclaimed Bernard, tapping his nose knowingly. "We're gonna kill off tha' pest once an' for all," he continued, dramatically sweeping up his spear.

"Wait! It's not just us, is it?" piped up John, panic slowly bubbling in his eyes.

"I can get the lads, all of 'em," suggested Greg, grinning rather evilly. Bernard nodded in agreement, and stood, spear in hand.

"Listen out carefully now boys. It's time we got a pay-rise."

There it was! The metallic scent of the keys! According to the interrogation earlier, a watchman always locked up for the night, and a few men stood guard inside. A few men that could be easily gotten rid of.

Tim raised his head and howled into the deep darkness above–the signal. The other 3 warriors in the shadows tilted their heads and listened to the long, low, and somewhat melancholy, sound.

They all knew what it meant, and slowly started closing in on the edifice. It was strange, how such a structure existed, isolated in a deserted square on the edges of the East End.

They surrounded the fort in a square formation, with Strax and Vastra circling towards Jenny and Tim, eventually forming an obtuse semi-circular shape outside the front, and only, entrance. Crouching in the shadows, all they could do now was wait.

Ever so slowly, a thin makeshift door (if one was being generous; it was basically a sheet of corrugated metal on hinges) creaked open, and 3 figures slipped out. They seemed jumpy and nervous, like fox exiting its den for the first time that particular evening. All 3 clutched a long sharpened pole and dispersed routinely onto a long platform midway up the building.

They'd barely settled themselves onto the flimsy wooden planking when a female, blood-chilling scream of absolute agony sounded, turning all ears towards the source. Vastra tasted the air for any clues on the cry, only for her tongue to pick up something else. Something dangerous. Something fast. Something heading directly towards her.

Vastra's eyes snapped up and her muscles only just jerked her out of the way of the spear. It landed with a hollow, wooden clatter which mixed with the snarl of its target as she thought how little apes had actually progressed. Granted, their aim and weapon quality had grown, but the same abject degenerates still remained behind the spear.

2 more clatters confirmed that the other spears had missed their targets, which happened to be a perfect signal to the opposition. A deep rumbling vibration of the ground was accompanied by a belligerent war-cry, echoing and splitting off all surfaces, surrounding the four beings. Indeed, a swarm of man and spear had erupted from the roof of the fortress, and was slowly sliding down the façade via rope ladders that had, mere moments ago, been hastily flung over the edge.

Jenny's eyes widened as the spiky, howling mass made its slow progress downwards. This wasn't expected, but such events as this gave her rarely-used improvisational skills free reign; with Vastra, everything was planned to the absolute millimetre. Then again, circumspection wasn't necessarily a good quality to possess in their line of work. An extempore dash towards her mistress' position is what her mind demanded, and what her body followed obediently. After all, waiting around at the front of the building was asking for trouble.

Descending from a stout structure nearby, Madame Vastra caught sight of a very Jenny-shaped silhouette. Indeed, it was, but the 'spear mass' was nearing and the Silurian feared that the men would get to her maid before she did.

Jumping the last 30 feet, Vastra landed with a slight crunch, but paid no heed as she spied a large figure approaching from behind Jenny. Well, that's what her vision told her, but her tongue reported that it was just the mammal pu–...child, Tim. That war cry of 'SONTAR-HA!' was unmistakable, and, for the first time so far, relieving to hear.

A bitter silence hung in the air. The wind, that earlier had inflicted a cut as sharp as the blades some ruffians wielded in these sordid alleyways, had wasted away until it was barely a languid whisper. Menacing and hollow, wooden spears tapped out their war chants against the damp stones placed upon the dead land.

Jenny tried to take it all in. It was the four of them against...how many? A mob of twenty strong lined the outskirts of the fortress, whilst at least another 50-crammed and quietly shoving each other about for a good gander at the invaders-had remained on the raised platform.

'Of course they would,' Vastra thought darkly. 'They wield spears, which are of little use on foot.'

With dignity and daring, Vastra drew both her katanas, stubbornly retaining her pride to never drop eye contact with any of the apes. Not that they could even tell, the pathetic vermin. Jenny followed suite, though looked decidedly more worried than her mentor. Even Strax had silenced, the enormity of this battle awakening his inherent war spirit. The four of them stood proud and ready; the entire Earth wouldn't dare convince them to flee.

_**A/N: I wasn't too happy with their 'battle plan' in this chapter, but I was never born a tactician. Besides, it would start to get boring if it was too complicated.**_


	8. Chapter 8-Kill like Demon

**Chapter 8-**

**Kill Like a Demon**

It was just like how she imagined it. There, in the library, she'd read of the Ancient Greeks, and that one battle she couldn't for the life of her remember the name of right now, and how the commander had exclaimed that they'd have some shade to fight in after he'd been told their enemies' arrows would blot out the Sun. That was the battle. That was the one where one side was heavily outnumbered too. How ironic.

Rain is all that Jenny could have said. Hundreds and thousands of the things, making their unstoppable, inevitable journey Earth-wards, to tear and puncture anything that stood in its way.

Wait. What?

The spears had reached the climax of their arc in the air, and were ever so slowly obeying the iron grip of gravity as the sharpened ends tilted down. Nothing could stop them. Anything that tried would be torn apart. Even if they somehow survived the first wave, Vastra could see men bringing more supplies out from within the structure.

"Destroy the ones that endanger you!" she roared, not taking her eyes off the spines suspended above them. "Strax...OBLITERATE THE APES!"

"SON...TAR...HAAAAAAA!"

Jenny felt helpless. Here she was, staring up at her method of potential death, with nowhere near as much skill or power or (she hated to admit it) ammunition as her comrades. But no, Jenny Flint, this is no time to cower or flee. If you're going down, you're blooming well gonna go down fighting.

The wooden shafts flew down at them relentlessly. Jenny barely managed to get her katana in position to slice the thing all down the centre before another came down from the heavens, this time aiming for her toes. It was decided about 5 seconds in that avoiding them would be the best course of action, and slicing them for the more dire situations. She could imagine them men up there, throwing the spears, chortling drunkenly as they watched the four small figures below dancing and waving about in a most antsy fashion.

Little did they expect and explosion and the stiff groaning of pine wood as the supports for their platform had been, well and truly, obliterated. Spears thrown last minute wobbled in the air before curving prematurely down, clattering off the stones to be shattered by their successfully, though not accurately, thrown brethren.

It just so happened to be one of these thrown failures that clipped the edge of a certain Sontaran's probic vent, now that his weakness was well and truly visible in his battle armour. His body jerked and went limp before the legs collapsed under the pressure of the rest of the body, which was consequently trampled on by the feet of the occupants of the platform during the collapse.

Vastra saw Strax's fall, but helping him now would jeopardise any chances they had of victory. Yes, they were heavily outnumbered, and needed all the help they could get, but she had priorities. At least he'd managed to destroy the platform supports, taking- rather literally- the enemies' 'upper grounds'. However, Vastra did also see (it took her several 'replays' in her head before what had happened truly made an impact on her) a spear catch one of the flat sides of Jenny's katana.

There are some things that reason tells you is impossible. Not highly unlikely, improbable or even purely nonsensical, but _impossible_. Something that could never conceivably happen, if you considered everything you had at that point in time and even tweaked the probabilities substantially. But no, it happened.

Jenny's katana bent.

To any other normal soul, they'd just shrug and think someone was over-reacting. It was just a freak accident, it should be fine. But to those who were blessed with the skill of swordsmanship, it was almost like a death.

Well, no time could be wasted just standing and gawping there now, could it? With an almost-silent hiss, Madame Vastra leapt in front of her companion to swiftly begin hacking away at the incoming dangers. Meanwhile, Jenny tested a few 'safe swings' (if any sort of swing with a sharp piece of steel could be considered 'safe') with her bent weapon; it was no use. It was like her extended arm had been broken and crippled, and the blade simply couldn't swing through the air anymore. It would glance off to the left of its own accord, a soldier turned madman. Jenny cursed as she couldn't even sheathe it, the bend stubbornly blocking the way in, so tossed it aside to be damned for all she cared at this point in time.

"Cut the grounded spears! It should terminate their use!" called Vastra over her shoulder, tossing one of her katanas to Jenny (all the while watching some men have the nerve to retrieve their used weapons whilst joking amongst themselves. The cheek! They think they can win a battle by sheer numbers?)

"Oh, and Jenny dear?"

"Yes ma'am?" came the reply, accompanied by a satisfying crack of splintering wood.

"Do utilise some grenades, and don't fear to be too liberal with how many."

"Aye ma'am, right away ma'am."

The rain of wooden shafts was slowly thinning out now, as supply failed to reach demand increasingly more frequently. However, the mass that had clung to the foot of the building was slowly expanding outwards, so it was longer than it was thick. Vastra checked her right, where less progress had been made in comparison the west of her, incidentally also where Tim was still smashing any spear within arm's reach by main force.

Whilst this tactic of slowly draining the enemies' resources did succeed, it was painfully slow. So slow that Vastra decided to take the risk of a head on charge at the men themselves. This was, to be concise, extremely effective. Scattering, very few could gather themselves again before they found that an arm or leg had been severed from their body. If they were lucky, that is. Many decapitated bodies fell on the spot, whereas others fell clutching their necks, writhing in agony at the toxins coursing through their vessels, plunging them into a black abyss of slow, but inevitable, death. Some watched as fragments of themselves danced in front of their eyes, the macabre confetti of explosives painting the world a demonic crimson. The unluckiest of them all would watch as a beast, no taller than himself, would wrench his own spear out of his grasp and plunge it straight through his mouth to firmly anchor itself in the earth underneath his head. This could be seen as a mercy, so one wouldn't, and couldn't, watch the feral devouring of their very own internal organs before them.

Weighted and weary, the atmosphere hovered stationary between the motley crew. The breeze itself daren't enter the square of unholy slaughter, instead, taking a shadowed route around the skirts of the surrounding edifices. With blood running high, in both senses, the world seemed to stand still around them, the enormity of what they'd just done still yet to crash upon them.

Slowly, silently, the curtain of realisation drew open, synchronised with the departing of all beams of natural light, plunging all into the darkest hours of the night.

They'd wiped them out.

All of them, lost in a quieting pool of blood, remains and corpses strewn throughout the area. Even Strax was...wait, where was Strax?

Darting forward into the shadows lining the square, Vastra soon found the larger-than-normal body that could only be her butler's. Plucking out the life detection scanner from its usual location on his utility belt (well, he said 'utility', but 'grenade' would be a much more fitting name by far), she scanned the stilled mass of war-given-form. It recognised the Sontaran form, and offered a 'Probic Vent Attack Recovery', which Vastra prodded excessively viciously.

With a twitch and a jerk, Strax's figure sat up at a sharp ninety degree angle, his domed head swivelling around to take in the scene. Though they'd never admit it later, the Silurian and the maid had never been so relieved to see Strax alive.

There was a slight grunt and growl behind them. Jenny and Vastra turned to see Tim, joints stiffened with a strange look in his lupine eyes. Was he...grinning?

Painfully slowly, as though a holy deity itself had thrown a spanner into the ever-churning cogs of time, he tilted forward. Only then did the two metre long wooden protrusion reveal itself, lodged in at an alarming depth in the blood-stained hide.

_**A/N: How about that? My personal rule: if you're going to create non-canon characters, kill them all off later so you don't have to write a sequel/tie up loose ends/leave a werewolf running rampage around London. What about you? Do you think he should have lived?**_


	9. Chapter 9-Settling of the Dust and Ashes

**Chapter 9-**

**Settling of the Dust...and Ashes**

Despite what was happening in front of her, Vastra couldn't help but take careful note of the dying footsteps some distance away. Whoever that ape may be, whatever they have...she will destroy it. Tim lay on his side, quietly coughing up dark blood, or as quietly one could whilst being three times the size they usually are. Each inhale and exhale shook the swathes of fur that covered him, and he seemed to continually grow smaller with each drawn breath. Only when the fur seemed to be growing ever-so-thinner did Jenny clasp her hand over her mistress' eyes for the second time that evening. It was strange indeed; despite what had happened-and was happening-that evening, Jenny remembered to protect her mistress above all else.

Jenny herself was free to watch the fur shrink back into the delicate human skin underneath; the curved claws flatten and draw back into flimsy human nails. The rags that passed as clothes hung off the weak frame of the boy, the blood that had soaked into the edges of the cloth still warm from the life that had previously pumped so triumphantly around the blood owner's system.

Strax's 'nurse-mode' seemed to activate then and there, snatching the life detection scanner from Vastra's grasp and sweeping it in a wide arc over Tim's hunched body.

"Boy, it seems that on this day you will die for the greater glory of war, the lifeblood of the Sontaran Empire! You would have made an excellent Sontaran soldier, but maybe not in this tiny, puny, expendable form. You made an excellent comrade, but it would have brought more honour upon you if I was the one who destroyed you on the field of war."

How very tactless of Strax.

"Thanks Mr Strax sir!" Tim chirped back, his fatal injury fleetingly non-existent. "S'pose me gift 'ad t' come in 'andy somewhere eh? Maybe...maybe next time..." At long last, the fire of determination and strength–both of mind and body–flickered down into its last embers. As a gentle breeze glided through the war plain, the dying lights of cheer were fully extinguished in the youngster's eyes. His mouth relaxed and froze in an almost casual grin, watching the world stream past it as it danced a life of its own.

Shaking ever-so-slightly, Jenny closed his eyelids. Oblivious to the bloodshed and loss, the night trotted on.

It wasn't a pleasant sight indeed, to other apes at least. However, this time, even for Vastra's standards, the body was a mess. Well, she said 'body', but 'red pile of bones and organs' may have been more fitting as she watched the trail of red saunter through the cobbles.

It had taken her less than 10 minutes to track that runaway spearman down. Well, spearwoman. Judging by her portable wealth and identity, it would have been safe to say she had commanded the 'clan', and the one who had been the source of the scream that night. Granted, it was rather effective as a distraction. It was strange though—a woman leading such a large organisation, especially in this period of intolerance and expectations.

It had been two days since the pup's (the infection of lycanthropy made this reference all the more fitting) cremation, two days of Vastra wondering what on Earth she was still doing in the house and not hunting down the coward. And within those two days, the slow realisation of how human she'd become. Holding in her anger like this? 'I suppose you are what you eat', she thought grimly, staring at the hollow carcass before turning home.

The journey on foot gave her time to think. Time to decipher some curious emotions over a certain human back at home. She knew Jenny would strongly disapprove (in fact, an acrimonious scolding may be lined up in this more-serious-than-usual case) if she saw what Vastra had done to that female ape, but...was she looking forward to it? Jenny was terribly attractive when angry, which only served to agitate the maid further when a smile crept to her Mistress' lips.

Nevertheless, that meal served its purpose as a small form of revenge for the proud Silurian. As she turned one of the final corners, the two-day-old scent of ash and flesh wisped around her, welcoming her back to her territory, her domain.

Before she even turned to close the door, Jenny was already at the bottom of the stairwell and greeting her like etiquette demanded she should.

"G'd evenin' Ma'am, will you be wantin' your dinner shortly?"

Turning slowly, wondering how to answer without revealing her barbaric act, Vastra inhaled deeply.

"No thank you, it seems my appetite is on the wane as of late." Jenny was only just able to give Vastra the 'like-I'd-believe-that' look before Strax strode out of the kitchen.

"The severing and skinning of the enemy 'onions' has been completed. Are there any other Prisoners of War that are to be executed?" he boomed.

Jenny couldn't help but roll her eyes amusedly before replying.

"Yes Strax, there is. Remember those potatoes that you 'ad a go at me for 'bout a month ago?"

"Of course boy! A Sontaran warrior never forgets a war, no matter how small!"

"Well, they need...obliteratin', BUT-" Strax halted mid-turn, excited by the mere mentioning of 'obliterate'. "-with a highly...specialised tool for their...race. Just a minute, lemme go get it..."

Jenny was in and out again of the kitchen in no time, the return trip with a Victorian equivalent of a potato masher.

"This," she declared, holding it out for the butler to clumsily take.

"What is it?" asked Strax, eying the wooden tool.

"It's a...a..." she couldn't exactly say 'potato masher' now, could she? What with the amount of times she's called Strax a potato, even he'd be able to make the connection. "It's a spud crusher."

"Ammunition?"

"W-What?"

"Ammunition boy! What must I load it with to make it function?"

"Uh, it's all manual."

"Calibre?"

"Um, manual again. Listen, it's all manual stuff. You have to use those muscles that...all Sontaran warriors should 'ave..."

With that, Strax seemed satisfied.

"Potatoes! Prepare to be obliterated for the greater glory of the Sontaran empire! Sontar-ha! Sontar-ha! Sontar..."

With Strax more or less safely out of the way, Jenny turned back to Vastra, looking less than pleased.

"You killed 'im, didn't you?"

"Her, Jenny, it was a her..."'I think', she adds as an afterthought.

"It doesn't matter. I swear, if the newspapers report a proper bad killin' t'morrow, you can make your own lunch." With that, the maid stormed off to stab angrily at the drawing room fire. Vastra knew Jenny would make lunch tomorrow, report or not, but it was worth it to see the fire in her eyes once more.

It would have to wait, she decided. She'll ask any other time, but time would have to wait for her.

_**A/N: There we have it! So, what did you think? Unfortunately, I won't be continuing from that ending, because, as I've mentioned earlier, I just don't 'do' emotions. Tearing people apart is more my area...Ahem. Reviews are great, and most useful when they're constructive. I know my stories can be a bit flat and dry, which is why I need feedback. I think the bottom line should be whether I should ever consider typing again. Grammar and stuff should be fine, me being a Grammar Nazi and that already. So...yeah. Feedback please!**_


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